


you're gonna have to ask nicely

by gratuitously1d



Category: One Direction (Band), X Factor RPF
Genre: Asphyxiation, Breathplay, D/s, Established Relationship, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-16
Updated: 2012-06-16
Packaged: 2017-11-10 22:12:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/471257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gratuitously1d/pseuds/gratuitously1d
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry can't stop thinking about Louis choking him and he wants more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're gonna have to ask nicely

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [gated](http://gated.tumblr.com)'s [haven’t even turned you over](http://gated.tumblr.com/post/25198464202/havent-even-turned-you-over-002-o-harry-louis-o) [this work has been deleted but you don't have to read it to understand this]

Afterwards, Harry can’t get the idea out of his head. He knows that it’s not really Louis’ thing but it is his thing and there’s nothing Louis likes more than doing things that he knows will turn Harry on. He also loves that Louis has never judged him for the things he likes even if he wants Louis to hurt him, a little, sometimes. He’s not fragile. He’s really not going to break.

It’s not the easiest thing to ask for though but Harry isn’t beneath being a little cheeky either. So Louis is fucking him when Harry pulls Louis’ hand from his dick and groans a little at the loss of contact but he endures it all the same. He puts Louis’ hand at his throat and smirks. His stomach flips with butterflies and he can feel the pressure around, it’s not stopping his breathing at the moment, just a gentle warm collar made by Louis’ fingers.

Louis strokes his throat, softly, delicately. Harry swallows and he can feel Louis’ eyes trace the bob of his Adam’s apple as his fingers settle around the side of his neck. Louis’ thumb resting on Harry’s windpipe, a featherlight touch with a pulse inside it. Harry wants to feel Louis’ heart race like his.

“Come on,” Harry whines, pushing upwards against Louis’ fingers. He wants it, he can feel it tighten low in his stomach and he wants, needs it so badly that he will do almost anything for it right now.

“Har,” Louis says seriously and Harry can tell he’s about to say he’s worried about going too far and not knowing when to stop and what if Harry can’t stop him.

“Please,” Harry says desperately. “I won’t let you hurt me. _Please_.” He’s tempted to clench down because then Louis can’t resist but he doesn’t because he wants Louis to want this too. He wants to give this to Louis and he wants Louis to take it. Take from him like he owns him.

“Okay,” Louis exhales with a ragged breath. “Fuck, Harry,” he says as he bites his lip. Harry recognises this look - Louis is trying not to come and Harry can’t help but grin up at him.

Louis takes his hand off Harry’s throat then and Harry whines unhappily because he wants Louis’ strong fingers encircling his throat and cutting his air off but no, Louis raises his hand to stroke Harry’s face, his thumb brushing over his cheekbone. Louis bends over so his breath is puffing softly against Harry’s face. “I love you so much,” he says, his voice low before he captures Harry’s lips in his in a chaste kiss. When he pulls away, he’s pressing on Harry’s windpipe slowly without breaking eye contact.

Harry feels breathless already but he knows it must be excitement because Louis barely pressing down. Harry nods and Louis thrusts in and out of him leisurely while he increases the pressure, slackening it slightly when he eases away from him and then pushing harder, deeper in him. It’s making Harry feel dizzy from the warring sensations of pleasure and deprivation.

“More,” Harry tries to say but he ends up mouthing the words because the words slip from him. He’s worried that Louis will stop but Louis knows him and trusts him and Harry has never felt more proud of him. It’s not going to take much now, he’s close.

“I know,” Louis replies and then he brings his other hand, braced by the side of the pillow to complete the full circle. Louis smiles and Harry can see the nervousness so he tries to smile back, his head in a full neck collar as he feels two fingers over his windpipe. “Take a deep breath,” he says.

Harry sucks in the air greedily in anticipation and closes his eyes because he doesn’t want Louis to see the moment of true panic when his body aches for air but also because this is when the darkest part of him emerges. It would be so easy, Louis could if he wanted to and Harry would let him. Just a little more pressure or maybe a twist to the side, his strong fingers holding Harry’s life in his bare hands. This is a private escape, the utmost forbidden fantasy that Harry isn’t ready to share yet. Louis probably suspects it, he’s the one who takes him there and Harry thinks, no he knows, that he will never love someone more for giving him what he needs.

Harry is holding his breath and Louis strokes his throat gently. “Let it go,” he urges.

He’s expecting it but it still feels unexpected when Louis squeezes. He’s really squeezing, hands wrapped in a brace around his neck, thumbs doubling the pressure at his throat. The force of it slams into Harry, crushing his weak exhale and taking all of the breath from him. Harry’s eyes fly open in surprise and he can see Louis’ determined face and Harry has to squeeze his eyes shut again because he can’t breathe. His exhale is trapped inside his throat, futilely resisting against Louis’ grip. Harry’s hands which were lying flatly on the bed, clench into fists and he can’t even feel his blunt nails digging into his palms because _he can’t breathe._ Harry twists in Louis’ hands, feeling the rough friction of skin on skin and it hurts like someone is scraping along his throat, he can’t think, his words have been taken from him and Louis’ fingers are digging in the back of his neck and it hurts-

and then the blessed release as Louis takes his hands off. He’s pushing Harry’s hair off his sweaty forehead and kissing his hair while trying to cuddle him.

“Oh god, oh god, Harry.” Louis says. “I’m sorry,” he babbles and Harry looks up at him, chest heaving with the privilege of being able to breathe and he can’t think. Louis is a bit blurry and Harry doesn’t understand why Louis is sorry. “I’m so sorry, Harry,” Louis says again sounding anguished when he pulls out of Harry and oh. He’s coming on Harry’s stomach in fast spurts, striping him, marking him. “Shit,” he says even as he’s still coming.

“Hey, stop that,” Harry says, finding the words inside his throat. He sounds raspy like the words are still crushed inside him. The smile comes easily to him. “I wanted it. Fuck, I still want it,” he says with a laugh and then pointed looks down at his neglected cock.

“Sor-”

Harry cuts off Louis’ apology by grabbing Louis’ hips and grinding up against his still sensitive member.

Louis groans.

Then he smears his come over Harry’s stomach, wet fingers circling Harry’s fourth nipple teasingly. “I wasn’t done yet,” Louis says, slapping Harry’s hand away as he reaches for himself impatiently. Louis rubs his thumb across Harry’s nipple before wrapping his fingers around Harry’s prick and jerking him off roughly. He keeps his left hand splayed possessively across Harry’s chest, over his heart like he’s pinning him down as he’s pulling his orgasm from him. The edge of his nail scrapes across his nipple with each pump of his fist and Harry feels like he’s been laid open, helpless to Louis’ ministrations.

Harry arches up, his hands tightening on Louis’ hip, fingers digging in as he holds tightly onto Louis. He would apologise, maybe, but it feels too good. Louis wouldn’t care anyway, he knows Harry is his beyond words. Harry breathes in, it’s almost too easy, and he’s saying _I love you, I’m yours, always, please, I love you._

Louis eyes flicker downwards and Harry can imagine the bruises that are probably coming up spectacularly on his throat.

“Harry,” Louis says with feeling, sounding awed and it’s the combination of this and Louis’ fingers touching, barely scarcely grazing his neck but it’s enough to make the bruises tingle that draws Harry’s orgasm from him.

“Louis,” Harry cries and he’s coming so hard that he can’t see and for a moment he feels as if he can’t breathe again. “Louis,” he chokes out, unable to say anything else and he doesn’t need to say anything else.

The older boy strokes him through the orgasm, milking him until he’s done and then he shuffles down to kiss the head of Harry’s dick before blowing on it.

Harry shivers, looking down to see Louis’ mischievous grin. Louis crawls back up and kisses him and Harry can taste him as he licks into Louis’ mouth. They kiss languidly, Louis’ hands tangling in Harry’s hair. Harry can feel his heart skip a beat when he thinks of the same hands being gentle, strong, violent and protective.

“That was amazing,” Harry says when Louis breaks away from the kiss and leans his forehead on his, a curl trapped between them.

“No, you are,” Louis says, brushing the lock of hair away and tapping his head on Harry’s.

“We are, yeah,” Harry corrects gently because he is Louis’ as much as Louis is his and he doesn’t ever want Louis to forget that.  



End file.
